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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23120608">By Any Other Name</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/parcequelle/pseuds/parcequelle'>parcequelle</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: Voyager</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Ficlet, Prompt Fic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:00:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>701</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23120608</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/parcequelle/pseuds/parcequelle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>First impressions, second chances.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Guinan (Star Trek)/Seven of Nine</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>By Any Other Name</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/pauraque/gifts">pauraque</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A woman stands stiffly at the bar in Ten Forward, as alone in the crowd as anyone Guinan has seen since Ro Laren. The thought makes her smile, and she excuses herself from Geordi and Reg, freshly supplied with drinks, to go and make a new friend - if she's one of the old <i>Voyager</i> crew they've just picked up from Jupiter Station, she probably needs one.</p><p>Guinan is already smiling, already saying, 'Hello, what's your name?' when she sees that her new friend is tense, and aloof, and... sporting some very particular facial jewellery. For the first time in about six hundred years, Guinan finds herself with no ease to slip into, no open mind to talk. She ought to be moving away, feigning the catch of a fictional eye across the bar and excusing herself, but then the woman is speaking, and Guinan is... struck: the voice is melodious; cool, yes, and measured, but not lacking depth. Not lacking emotion. </p><p>'I am... unsure,' it says.</p><p>'You're unsure of your name?' Guinan asks her.</p><p>The woman looks up - there is nothing in her hands, her fingers carefully folded in front of her rather than holding a drink. 'I am. My aunt refers to me as "Annika", the name given to me by my parents upon my birth. The crew of <i>Voyager</i> and Captain Janeway call me "Seven".' She frowns. 'My official designation is - was - Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One. But each of these designations was assigned to me, without my consent, and with no regard for my preferences. Therefore, in having too many names to choose from, I effectively have none.'</p><p>Despite herself, Guinan has been listening - when doesn't Guinan listen? When can't she, even when she would rather abstain? - and despite herself, she now finds herself smiling, smiling at this former Borg drone, this woman of metal and flesh who reminds her, so sharply and suddenly, of Data. 'Which would you choose?' she asks her. She leans forward on the bar-top and studies Annika-Seven-Seven of Nine, tries not to look too hard at the curve of metal over her eye; tries harder not to notice that it's really rather the opposite of offensive, of ugly or crude. 'If the choice were up to you - if no one else cared. If no one knew who you were, or what it means to be Seven of Nine, once a Borg drone.'</p><p>Rather than answering her question, Annika-Seven cocks her head at Guinan, far too knowing, and says, 'You do not like me.'</p><p>'I don't know you,' Guinan corrects. 'I'm trying to get to know you, I think.'</p><p>'Why?' Annika-Seven asks. 'Why "get to know me" when you are already prejudiced against me for my actions as a member of the Collective?'</p><p>The word "Collective" still makes her shiver; Guinan doesn't let it show. Instead, she studies her, holds a steady, honest gaze in her own. Finally, she says, 'You know, you're right. I have been prejudiced against you. I lost a lot to the Borg, and I let the pain of that loss influence how I behaved toward you.' She stands straighter, inclines her head. 'I hope you will accept my apology.'</p><p>Annika-Seven inclines her head right back. 'I will. I too lost a lot to the Borg. Nevertheless, I wish to... extend my own apology for your loss.'</p><p>'Thank you,' Guinan says. She smiles a little, can't help it. 'I'm pretty sure you weren't personally responsible for them, unless you're a heck of a lot older than you look.'</p><p>She raises an eyebrow. 'I assure you I am not, though the cumulative knowledge of the Borg Collective has ensured that I am wise beyond my years.'</p><p>'Was that a <i>joke</i>?'</p><p>Bright eyes sparkle. 'Perhaps, if you join me for a drink, you will find out.'</p><p>'Now, there's an offer I can't refuse.' Guinan stops in the act of running her hands beneath the sonic sanitiser, turns to face her new friend once more. 'You didn't answer my question, though. What should I call you?'</p><p>'That will depend entirely on the quality of the drink.'</p><p>Guinan throws her head back and laughs. This is going to be <i>fun</i>.</p>
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